


Rubies in the Snow

by indigowild



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Fluff, Peggysous Secret Santa Exchange 2015, Pregnancy, Prompt Fic, food cravings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-30
Updated: 2016-01-30
Packaged: 2018-05-17 06:55:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5858764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indigowild/pseuds/indigowild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>prompt: Heavily pregnant Peggy + Soon-to-be-daddy Daniel on Christmas. Peggy gets cravings. Daniel ventures out in the snow to get his wife her treats.  (I fudged on this a bit)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rubies in the Snow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [scullyssahnequarkbroetchen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scullyssahnequarkbroetchen/gifts).



> forgot to give a shout out to @Paeonia for Daniel's sister's name (Tillie) from her Daniel backstory Quo Vadis.

 

_ Schnick _

 

It was the quiet sound of the refrigerator door opening and closing for the third time in fifteen minutes that finally caught Daniel’s attention, pulling him out from the pages of the new Raymond Chandler mystery he’d unwrapped just that morning. Sliding a bookmark in between the pages, he paused, listening.

 

Footsteps, a bit slower than usual and lacking their familiar staccato clicks. The squeak of the cabinet door above the toaster (need to oil that), a sigh, then another squeak. Shuffling followed by the metal scrape of the breadbox lid and a thunk as it was closed with a bit more force than necessary. A sharp exhale. Footsteps retracing their path.

 

Uh oh. It was that time of the evening.

 

Scooting to the edge of his armchair, Daniel grabbed his crutch and rose to his feet, moving as quietly as possible to the kitchen doorway. Peggy stood silhouetted against the harsh glare of the refrigerator light, stockinged toes curled against the chill of the floor. She leaned forward slightly, one hand moving to support her rounded belly, scowling as she glared at the shelves. It was absolutely adorable, but Daniel stifled the chuckle he felt rising in his throat. He was a wise man, after all, and knew his role after eight and a half months of similar nights.

 

“Looking for anything specific, sweetheart? There’s still some of the apricot rugelach Ana sent over. Or there’s Tillie’s fruitcake,” Daniel offered, crossing the room to stand behind his wife, placing his hand firmly on the small of her back as she straightened and winced. Dropping a kiss onto her hair, he wondered what path Peggy’s pregnancy cravings would take tonight and evaluated his options for satisfying them.

 

Sweet: the aforementioned rugelach and fruitcake.

 

Salty: popcorn kernels and oil in the pantry. A few minutes at the stove with a heavy pot, and he could have a bowl topped with melted butter in front of her.

 

Savory: leftover turkey from their Christmas dinner, Swiss cheese, a dash of mustard, and some fresh bread for a quick sandwich. Alternately there were also extra portions of mashed potatoes and gravy neatly packaged in the refrigerator that he could reheat.

 

Cold: a pint of Peggy’s favorite butter pecan ice cream, tucked away behind the bags of frozen peas and corn.

 

Chocolate: a nearly full tin of Angie Martinelli’s homemade fudge, delivered only yesterday when they had all met up for a Christmas Eve luncheon at Stark’s. 

 

Closing the refrigerator door, Peggy turned slightly to lean back against Daniel’s chest. Even if he hadn’t been able to see her face, her frustration and embarrassment was easy to read in the tension in her shoulders. He slid his hand up to the nape of her neck, stroking her carefully as one would a stray cat. 

 

“I don’t know what I want. I’m tired, I need a snack, nothing looks right, and I’m bloody sick of this!” Peggy’s foot stomping on the floor resonated with Daniel, reminding him of his days in the veterans’ hospital after he’d first regained his appetite. His healing body needing the nutrition and his worried mind seeking some kind of comfort, but none of the nurses’ offerings actually capturing his interest. After a few days of the cravings clawing at the back of his mind, he’d snapped, slamming his fist against his bed table and toppling a cup of ice water onto his good leg. Daniel felt Peggy’s cheek begin to burn against his shoulder.

 

“God, I’m so—“

 

“Peg, it’s perfectly okay. It’s been a busy day, and of course you’re exhausted. Just let me help you, okay? Anything you want, anything at all. Scrambled eggs? I can make those chocolate chip cookies you like. Maybe something light, cut through all the heavy stuff we had for dinner? Fruit? I think we’ve got some canned peaches—“

 

A hum told him he was on the right track. But just as suddenly, Peggy slumped back against him, burying her face in his shirt.

 

“What, fruit, but not peaches? Okay, um, canned pears? I think we have some applesauce.”

 

“I realized what I want. But it’s…strawberries. Fresh strawberries,” she said quietly. “I know, it’s ridiculous. 8 p.m. on Christmas Day in D.C. I might as well be wishing for Thompson to stop being an ass.” 

 

“Well, that would be a true Christmas miracle, now wouldn’t it?” Daniel chuckled, pulling his wife against him with his free arm as his mind raced. Strawberries. So far, all of Peggy’s cravings had been easy to satisfy, not like Robinson’s wife who regularly demanded things like steak at 1 a.m. or a certain kind of cake made only by a bakery an hour away. In comparison, strawberries seemed so reasonable. Except for the factors that Peggy had pointed out: the day, the time, and the current season. Damn. It’s not like they had a bunch of fairy godmothers who could wave their wands and make the fruit magically appear…

 

His gaze fell upon Ana’s rugelach, neatly arranged on one of Stark’s crystal platters and wrapped in cellophane with an ornate bow on top.

 

Maybe they did. His eyes shifted to the phone on the wall.

 

“Peg, why don't I run a warm bath for you? You look like your back is hurting.”

 

“Thank you, darling, it is. I suppose a bath would be a good distraction.”

 

In more ways than one, Daniel hoped.

  
  


****

 

8:37 p.m.

 

“Knock, knock. Room service, my lady.”

 

“I don't recall ordering room service. That seems like exactly the kind of trick a spy would use. And here I am, without a single weapon at hand.”

 

Daniel snorted.

 

“Peg, I'm pretty sure you could make a bar of soap deadly.”

 

“Hmm. A convincing argument, to be sure. You may enter.”

 

Daniel nudged the door open with his hip, the sweet smelling warmth of the bathroom enveloping him. He paused, a fond smile quirking his lips.

 

Peggy reclined against the end of the tub, eyes closed and cheeks slightly flushed. Her hair was twisted up neatly in a bun, tendrils escaping to frame her face as their ends curled up from the humidity. Shiny red toenails wiggled above the bubbles as she braced her heel against the edge of the tub. He’d volunteered to help her paint them once she could no longer comfortably reach her feet, memories of watching his sisters fuss over their fingers (not to mention his childhood hobby of painting model airplanes) guiding his hands.

 

Arching her back, she stretched and began to push herself upright, the bubbles slipping and sliding along her curves in a most distracting way, glimpses of rosy pink and white skin peeking through…

 

Peggy’s eyes met his, and he wiggled his eyebrows seductively with an exaggerated leer.

 

Her resulting snort managed to be both unladylike and impressive.

 

“I see. Is this to be one of those room service stories that Howard’s ‘gentlemen’s’ magazines are so fond of? In that case I do believe our roles are quite reversed. I assume I’m expected to give you a generous…tip?”

 

God, the woman was incorrigible. 

 

He bowed slightly, bringing his free hand from behind his back to display a gayly printed tin box.

 

“One last present for you.”

 

Peggy tilted her head, her eyebrows drawing together as she quickly dried her hands and reached for the box. 

 

“It’s cold. Did you have it hidden outside?” She shook the box gently, lips pursed as she listened to the muffled sound of its contents tumbling about.

 

“Maybe Santa’s elves brought it. Go on and open it, Peg,” he said, grabbing the towel bar and easing himself down to sit on the small chair next to the tub that he used for dressing.

“Well, if you insist, I…oh! Oh, Daniel! Where…where did you get these strawberries?”

 

Her eyes opened wide and her lips parted in an “O,” looking for all the world as though the box held a diamond necklace instead of twenty-four perfectly red ripe strawberries. Daniel could smell a hint of their sweetness rising into the room as she traced her finger along a green stem.

 

“Stark’s greenhouse. I figured that since Ana and Jarvis said they had no plans for today, what with Hanukkah coming early this year and all, that they wouldn’t be too offended if I called. I was going to try to sneak over there while you were soaking, but once Ana overheard she insisted that they “go for a drive to admire the snowflakes.” Jarvis brought them up to the house and wanted me to tell you that they hope that you and the baby enjoy them, but then Ana nailed him in the back of the head with a snowball from the driveway. I figured I better shut the door at that point.” 

 

“I…I hardly know what to say. Thank you. You all shouldn’t have—“

 

“Shhh. Christmas miracle, remember? Now, how about you eat one of those beauties, and I’ll go make you a cup of tea and bring it here?” 

 

Daniel leaned forward, plucking the largest berry from the box, and brought it to her mouth. She rolled her eyes but took a small nibble.

 

And then proceeded to snatch the rest of the strawberry from his fingers and devour it, a smile of hedonistic delight spreading across her face. 

 

“Mmmmmmmm……these are quite possibly the best strawberries I have ever tasted in my life!”

 

“Good. I don’t suppose you’d be willing to let me have a taste of one?”

 

Suddenly, Peggy’s hand was on his jaw pulling his mouth down to hers, the tang of the strawberry juice smearing across his lips and her tongue so sweetly.

 

He had to agree, it was the best tasting strawberry ever.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


 


End file.
